always, always
by not a straight trumpet
Summary: Where else were they to go but the mountain?


**a/n:** can you believe something as small as a ticket can get me this worked up? i miss these two dweebs so so much

* * *

"We f-find ourselves up here quite a bit, don't we, Reina?" Kumiko twirled the candy apple in her hand like a wand, a baton. It looked like a wineglass in the right lighting, if you squinted a bit. She could almost pretend she was a high-class heiress, tittering lightly at some off-kilter joke, watching the whole world beneath her. Not that she was dressed for the part, not in her soft t-shirt and shorts. Not at all like her companion, the dark blue of her dress blending in with the sky, the collar of it reaching up to her neck. It was enough for Kumiko's heart to ache. Finally, after what felt like hours, Reina spoke.

"Do you mind it?" It was teasing, the way she said it, the lilt to her words not lost on Kumiko. A few strands had escaped from Reina's ponytail and now trailed down to her shoulders. "I'm sure there's a surplus of gorgeous, mysterious locations with stunning views for us to visit. Take your pick, _Oumae-san."_

"Y'know what I meant." She couldn't stop it, not really, the way her words crashed into each other when she was around this girl.

"Nothing wrong with a bit of consistency." Reina threw her head back, closed her eyes, let the wind caress her face. "I may pride myself on being unpredictable-"

"Pretentious, more like."

"-but I like it here." At that, Reina folded her hands in her lap. "It doesn't feel . . . attached, to this world." She looked up at the stars, and Kumiko felt the urge to hold her hand, such an overpowering thing that it nearly knocked her sideways. "It's separate."

"Yeah." What could she say to that, after all? "Separate."

"I'm glad you didn't bring your euphonium."

"Eh?"

"I'd meant to ask you, but it slipped my mind at the last minute."

"Why would I bring my euph in the first place?"

"I brought my trumpet." Reina gestured to the case sitting beside her.

"Ah, I thought you'd just, uh, you'd just brought that with you out of habit." It sounded stupid out loud.

"I do everything with a plan, Kumiko," Reina retorted, not unkindly. "I've been wanting to practice this one piece, but my room's acoustics don't . . . match up, really, to the scale of it. Besides, it's known as a serenade."

"You're gonna serenade me, Kousaka-san?" Kumiko could hardly get the sentence out, said it in one big rush of words instead. Of course she knew the mountain wasn't an unromantic place, of course she knew that last time they'd played _The Place Where We Found Love_ for crying out loud, but still-

Still she wondered, and waited, and did not make the move to kiss her or anything of that sort. All she did was sit, and listen.

And it was beautiful, the song, and she was beautiful, Reina Kousaka in her dark blue dress, somehow so much older than the last time, somehow still so young. Kumiko, too, was still young, both of them were, young but afraid, tentative, the air around them crisp and gentle yet weighted with words unspoken.

"Reina?" Kumiko licked her lips.

"Hmm?"

"I . . ." _Tell her, tell her now._ "That was, uh, really nice. The song."

"I'm glad." Reina pushed back her bangs, sweat keeping the strands plastered to her forehead. "I was so focused on the _Crescent Moon Dance_ for so long that I started to worry I might never play anything else."

"Nope, you've still got it." Kumiko's phone buzzed in her pocket, and she checked it, in part because she couldn't take Reina's violet eyes for another second, not when they threatened to send her flying down to the city below.

"Who's that?" Reina leaned over a bit, nonchalant, and Kumiko's heart did a backflip.

"Oh, it's Natsuki. They just announced a reboot of _The L Word,_ she's excited." Kumiko put the phone back in her pocket. "Yeah." Silence enveloped the both of them again.

"Will we keep on going back up here?" Reina asked, and she sounded almost tentative. Kumiko shrugged.

"If you want. I like it, I d-don't mind the hike."

"You minded it the first time."

"I was carrying my euphonium!" Kumiko elbowed her, tried to ignore the warmth spreading through her at the contact, the way she froze in place a little. "You'd mind that too."

"Didn't I say I didn't hate pain?" Reina turned to her, cheeks still flushed from the song, and Kumiko wondered how in the world this could be fair. " _I_ never had a problem with it." She paused. "But really, are we going to grow older?" Suddenly, jolting, Reina stood. "And forget about this place?"

"I know I won't." That much, at least, was true. "I, uh, don't know about you."

"Of course." Reina pressed a hand to her forehead, sighed a long sigh. "You're terrible."

"I guess so." The world seemed to revolve around them, right then, and Kumiko thought that if she were to step off the edge of the mountain she'd fall right into nothingness. What else could there be, after all? "I don't want us to forget." Reina leaned against her, then, the contact electrifying and comforting.

"Me neither, Kumiko."

And they did not kiss, nor exchange long-winded confessions. That would come another day, Kumiko figured. For now, this was enough. It would have to be enough.

* * *

 **a/n:** i tried to channel that stuttery, awkward teenage crush feeling, who knows if i did a good job but i had to do something after seeing that ticket


End file.
